


let me take your heart

by andrewminyard (caroandmally)



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Boys Kissing, M/M, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 13:48:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6241837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caroandmally/pseuds/andrewminyard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Ronan thinks he’s an idiot. Ronan thinks he’s impressive. Ronan sometimes wishes he had that much determination to get somewhere, but most of the time he’s accepted he’s already gone as far as he’s going to reach.</i>
</p>
<p>Or in which Ronan tries to fix things that can't be fixed and things that don't need fixing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	let me take your heart

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, hi. This is my first time writing for this fandom and I'm incredibly nervous about it. There's no actual plot in this fic, so like............. Don't hate me for it. It was very self-indulgent and I wanted to write Ronan, but it ended up 12000 words long. A huge thank you to Demi for checking over grammar for me even if she's never even read the series. You're the best. The title is from Memo by Years & Years.
> 
> I hope you like it! And I'm deeply sorry for the lack of Noah. 
> 
> I don't own these characters, I don't own this universe.

The sound of the pen tapping on the desk is probably bound to bother a few people in the classroom, but Ronan knows he isn’t famous for his massive consideration towards other people’s feelings. The teacher’s given him a few glares since he’s started but she’s yet to voice her complaints – not that it would change anything. Ronan is also not famous for listening to other people’s orders, especially not teachers. He smiles at her instead, tapping the pen harder until she looks away and back to the board, writing whatever Latin sentence she expects this useless bunch of seventeen year olds to learn. Ronan doesn’t know what she’s saying because he’s not paying attention.  


Blue gaze has been resting on the boy sitting one row to the right and two rows down from him. Unlike Ronan, Adam’s attention is undivided. He’s paid attention to the other boy in enough classes to know that he rarely ever diverts it, eyes clinging to the teachers’ every move, ears catching every single word out of their mouths. Unless Gansey or Ronan distract him, Adam’s not likely to lose focus even when the depth and darkness of the circles around his eyes herald his lack of sleep. He writes things down even after he’s copied everything on the board, has more annotations on the margins of textbooks than the teachers probably do. Adam’s working and studying himself into the ground, if only to guarantee he’s going to be off to bigger things once they are all done with school.

(Ronan thinks he’s an idiot. Ronan thinks he’s impressive. Ronan sometimes wishes he had that much determination to get somewhere, but most of the time he’s accepted he’s already gone as far as he’s going to reach.)

Adam’s not within Ronan’s reach at the moment, so there’s no distracting that he’s able to do. However, this is as safe as it can get for him to look without risking getting caught. He knows nobody pays attention to what he’s doing, even when he’s being purposely obnoxious, because they are only going to receive a narrowed glare in response. And even if they do, what would they accuse him of doing? Staring at a fixed point in the classroom? Just like everybody else in the class, except for, maybe, three people?

“Mr. Lynch,” it’s distant to his ears, his attention locked in on a spot on the back of Adam’s neck, and if he diverts his stare slightly to the right, Ronan’s going to be able to catch the mark he left there the night before. “Mr. Lynch,” he remembers the way Adam had writhed against his sheets, teeth sinking into Ronan’s pillow to keep from letting out a sound that might disturb Gansey’s sleep. Or worse, attract Noah to his room. “Mr. Lynch,” if Ronan tries hard enough, he might be able to pinpoint every part of Adam’s body that had been marked the night before, to remember the texture of Adam’s spine against Ronan’s tongue. No one’s ever meant that much for him to be addicted to small details, and yet it’s the middle of their Latin class and Ronan is halfway through to sporting a boner just from memory.

“Mr. Lynch.”  

The voice is more stern than the last times it tried to get Ronan’s attention, but he only looks towards the teacher when Adam turns to look at him. His eyes drift away then, going to rest on the woman’s face. The calm expression he knows had settled over his features is gone in a blink, replaced by the usual scornful look he reserves for any adult – anyone, really – that tries to chastise him one way or another. She doesn’t scare him – she doesn’t even matter to him, and his expression doesn’t relax when he sees her flinch. The teacher, he knows, is scared of him. Wouldn’t have dared called for him unless she was genuinely bothered by something and needed his attention for sure. They are all pathetic like this, and then they expect Ronan to show them any respect. Respect is given where respect is due, and until they stop acting like he’s a rabid dog they can try to leash with a few sentences and punishments, they aren’t going to earn it from him.

“Mr. Lynch, you’re being called into the principal’s office,” it’s only then that Ronan notices the woman next to the teacher. The principal’s secretary. Ms. Navarro. Cat Navarro is a five foot even woman that is constantly wearing high heels that look extremely uncomfortable and has, perhaps, the highest pitched voice Ronan’s ever listened to. She’s not a bad person, though, definitely not as annoying as the teachers, and she lets Ronan get away with taking handfuls of jelly beans from the pot on her desk to give to Gansey and Adam.

Ronan doesn’t know why he’s being summoned, but even he is smarter than questioning it. He shoulders his bag, shoving his pen in his pocket and strides towards the front door. When he walks past Adam, the boy kicks his shin lightly and raises his eyebrows at him, a silent question, a what the fuck have you done now Adam can’t let out into the open in words, only with a facial expression. There’s quiet judgement in there too, as if Adam can’t stand the fact that Ronan keeps fucking up can’t stand the fact that Gansey keeps having to clean up Ronan’s messes. Ronan is definitely not in the mood to be judged, definitely not by Adam. He flips him off before walking out.

Cat follows right by him, closes the door behind her and walks past Ronan, a silent offering for him to accompany her. Ronan goes, because he doesn’t have an option, but he keeps a slow pace, arriving at the office when Cat is already sat by her desk. She points to the principal’s door and in her eyes there’s no judgement like in Adam’s. On the contrary, she looks… understanding. Ronan likes to believe that’s it and not that whatever is flickering in her eyes is anywhere near pity, because no matter what the man has to say to him, Ronan doesn’t want or deserve anyone’s pity.

There’s almost dread when he walks into the room.

-

Ronan hates hospitals.

The smell of them, the white walls, the doctors walking around like they are some hotshot shit for saving lives when one’s life is not in anybody’s hands ever, the nurses trying to be reassuring and telling him to calm down and do you need anything and your brother is going to be out of surgery soon.  Ronan is plenty patient when he needs to be, but this isn’t one of those stances. On the contrary, he’s gripping the arm of the chair he’s sitting on like his life depended on it, and not even Matthew had managed to coax him into relaxing.

Matthew. Even if he knew it wasn’t Matthew when he had arrived in the hospital, Ronan’s breathing only slowed down a bit when he saw the blond head sitting next to Blue, of all people. His brother had a hand in his mouth, biting his nails, when Ronan tugged on his wrist and pulled him into a hug. The only injury Matthew had suffered was a cut to his eyebrow and purpling bruise on his cheek, but he was fine, Matthew was fine, and the relief Ronan felt at that fact was only strong enough to make the bile rising to his mouth to settle down a bit.

It was Declan. He was driving when the car in front of them braked suddenly and Declan had to swerve. That lead them into the other lane, and most of the blow of the frontal crash went to the driver’s seat. Matthew was in the backseat, behind the passenger’s, where Declan’s current girlfriend was sat. She was okay, Ronan was told even when he didn’t care to know, and resting in her room, her parents already on their way to the hospital. But Declan, he was told, wasn’t going to be okay anytime soon.

He had smashed his head against the window, was brought to the hospital unconscious and there was a team of surgeons busy at the moment trying to guarantee that Declan wouldn’t be declared brain dead anytime soon. Never in a million years Ronan expected to go through this situation with Declan. Matthew, yes, Ronan was worried about his younger brother every single day of his life, especially considering what would become of Matthew if something happens to Ronan. But Declan? Ronan doesn’t spare his older brother enough thoughts to have ever wondered what his reaction would be if something serious happened to Declan.

As it is, Ronan’s death grip on the chair is pretty telling of how he feels exactly. Gansey tried to talk him out of this tension, but the glare Ronan had sent his way had been telling enough for the boy to not approach him anymore. He noticed the hand Blue put on Gansey’s shoulder, the shake of his head, indicating that the only thing they could do for Ronan at the moment was to leave him be. Matthew was sat by Ronan’s side, kept biting on his nails, and the times Ronan looked up from his lap he could see that his brother’s blue eyes were scanning the room time and time again, almost like he expects Declan to appear at the door anytime soon.

Ronan doesn’t look up when said door opens and Gansey lets out a thank God. He’s too busy staring at the stain on the floor next to his foot, wondering if Noah had thought to feed Chainsaw while Ronan was away. It was past her feeding time and Ronan swore that if his pet raven died because the dead boy was incapable of putting some food for her to eat, he’d push him from a place taller than the second floor of Monmouth.

His line of vision is covered by Adam’s face. Adam, who’s kneeling in front of Ronan and taking Ronan’s face in his hands. This is not Adam-like behavior, he’s more likely trying to copy something Blue’s done for Gansey before, and Ronan knows it because Adam’s eyes are shaking almost as bad as Ronan’s. He doesn’t care about Declan, though, so Ronan knows it’s not because he’s anxious at Declan’s situation. Adam’s nervous about providing Ronan some sort of support he thinks Ronan needs at the moment. It’s enough for Ronan to turn his head away, shrugging out of Adam’s grip.

Adam’s insistent in a way he usually isn’t, so he takes the free seat on the other side of Ronan, a finger going to Ronan’s chin and pushing his head up so his eyes can meet Adam’s.

“What are you doing here?” Ronan asks, voice weak from the lack of usage. He hasn’t said a word since he left Aglionby, not even to check on Matthew. He had done that with his hands and his eyes, hugging his brother once he realized he was okay. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“They let me out a bit earlier,” Adam replied. How much earlier was it, Ronan wants to ask, but keeps this to himself. It would be telling to the fact that he hasn’t seen the hours fly by and, therefore, Declan’s been in surgery for way longer than Ronan hoped he would be. “I- I had to-“

“You didn’t have to do shit, Parrish,” Ronan spits, but it doesn’t come out as angry as he expected it to. He’s secretly grateful for Adam’s presence, but for Adam to have known Ronan needed him around meant he knows how much he means and how much he is needed. The amount of fragility in that reality is not something Ronan is willing to deal with at the moment – he needs the smallest piece of detachment, because he’s already showing to be far too moved by this situation than he would’ve liked to.

The sigh Adam lets out is heavy and loud, hand dropping from Ronan’s face to rest on top of Ronan’s on the arm of the chair. It’s just a touch at first, just a skim of the tips of Adam’s fingers against the back of his hand and it’s already more reassuring than any word Gansey had tried to give Ronan. It develops to a hand covering his, Adam easily prying his fingers off of the chair and Ronan lets him. The tension in his shoulders evaporates bit by bit, until it’s nearly gone when Adam’s hand tangles with his.

“I just-,” Adam hesitates once again, but Ronan doesn’t take advantage of this lull this time. Instead, he watches as Adam brings their hands up to his lips, brushes them against Ronan’s knuckles. Adam’s eyes are closed and Ronan knows it’s because it’s too much even to him, and that it takes more than Ronan is aware of for Adam to be like this with him, especially when there’s an audience pretending to do something else but is instead focused on the two of them. “I’m here, Ronan. I’m here.”

The meaning is too heavy, too overwhelming. Ronan shouldn’t need anyone, he shouldn’t- he can’t rely on someone else to work some sense into his head, to make him relax and face this sort of unwarranted tension. Relying this much means a vulnerability he can’t put words into. It means flashing back to his father’s dying body in his arms, the blood soaking his clothes. He already knows how much Adam means to him, has already done an okay job at accepting this secret he held close to his heart for a long time. But now it’s too out in the open, for anyone to stick a knife into and twist.

Ronan snatches his hand from Adam’s grip and stands up.

“I don’t need you, Parrish,” Ronan tells him, pointing a finger to the boy’s face. Adam’s surprised, but he’s not scared. Ronan doesn’t want him to be scared of him – he only needs Adam to be aware of boundaries he doesn’t need breaking at the moment. “Get your trailer trash ass back to your miserable job and get your fucking nose out of my business.”

He storms out without looking back.

-

Several machines are beeping by Declan’s head and the sound combined with the low lights is enough to drive Ronan into an almost-sleep state. It helps that he hasn’t had any sleep in the past twenty-four hours. Falling asleep is already complicated, but Ronan was doing fairly better the past few weeks. It helped when it was Adam’s bed that Ronan slept in, or if Adam was with him in his bed at all. It was a bit easier, but it wasn’t enough to help him fall asleep tonight. He keeps his eyes on the machines, on the numbers next to the lines, waiting for something bad to happen and for doctors to storm into the room, pushing Ronan away to get to Declan.

It doesn’t happen. Nobody walks into the room for a few hours, nobody other than the nurse to do a quick check up before there’s another change of shift. She asks Ronan if she needs anything, asks him if he got any sleep at all at night, but he darts his eyes towards her face and glares, for long enough that she gives up and walks away, leaving him alone. Technically he shouldn’t be here – he’s not eighteen yet, it’s not legal, but the Lynch boys have no family left and leaving Declan to spend the night alone wasn’t an option Ronan was okay with. It was either Ronan or Matthew, so Gansey drove the youngest brother to Monmouth so he could spend the night there.

The door opens again a couple of hours after that, and Ronan expects another nurse or some doctor. He’s incredibly wrong – instead, in walks Blue Sargent with one of her ripped to shreds dresses and a sweatshirt on top of it. Ronan already knows what she’s in there for and he has half a heart to push her from the window for the audacity of doing this in a situation where Ronan won’t be able to give her a reply other than a glare. At the same time, he’s impressed that she’s had the balls to do something like this and he’s almost curious to know what arguments she’s going to use. Almost.

“Hey,” she says, smiling at him. Ronan understands what’s got Gansey so head over heels about the girl – he doesn’t swing that way and isn’t interested at all, but Blue is beautiful. Dare he say, she’s almost as beautiful as his mother is, with the added youth that makes it so she doesn’t have the wrinkles his father’s dream had given her. However, none of that means Ronan is willing to deal with her bullshit most of the time. “Is he okay?”

Ronan could stay silent. He could not answer her and let it be. He knows Blue doesn’t expect him to be cordial, and he could live up to it. Part of him wants to know if what she came here to say is as bad as Ronan expects it to be, so when his eyes land on her figure, he knows they are only bored rather than raged.

“Alive, not in a coma, breathing by himself,” Ronan tells her. There are a lot of intricacies, medical terms that he’s listened enough times in the past twelve hours to be able to explain them for her, but he won’t go into details. “Everything indicates he’s off to wake up the same old asshole Declan has always been.”

“That’s good,” Blue says, taking a seat next to him on the couch he was supposed to sleep in. “Did you get any sleep?” Ronan doesn’t have to answer with anything other than a raise of his eyebrow for Blue to know. “Right.”

They fall into a sort of comfortable silence after that. She doesn’t ask anything else and Ronan doesn’t offer an explanation to the questions that are in the air. He starts fidgeting after a while, curiosity getting the best of him. People might not be aware of that, but Ronan knows when he’s fucked up. Most of the time, he simply doesn’t care enough to try and change that situation. On the contrary, he lets people deal with however he made them feel and simply accept he’s not going to do anything to change it. It’s Adam, though, and as much as he tries to fight against that feeling in the pit of his stomach, as much as he still tries to fight and deny it sometimes, Ronan had spent at least three hours last night thinking about the boy and where he was and how he was feeling.

Normal relationships are already complicated. Relationships involving Ronan Lynch are bound to be a nightmare.

“Spill it, Maggot,” he says eventually, turning his entire body to Blue this time, staring down at the girl.

“What are you doing with Adam, Ronan?” That surprises him slightly, and Ronan’s eyes narrow inevitably. The question isn’t posed in a tone of accusation, but genuine curiosity, concerned curiosity. It’s the exact feeling that shines through Blue’s eyes. “I know you’re a better person than most people think and I know you’d never use Adam or anyone, really, like this. But what are you doing? What are you trying to accomplish? Is Adam an experience or a try out, some sort of test? Or have you already made up your mind and you don’t know how to let him down easily?”

There’s an implication there that makes Ronan want to tell her to go fuck herself and a few more creative insults, but he bites his tongue. He tries to remind himself that Blue’s concern is founded and the girl is constantly trying to act like the boys’ mother and look after their well-being – which is welcomed sometimes, but not all the time. Blue is baring herself like this, exposing herself to Ronan’s possible rage but not because she’s only concerned that Ronan might do to Adam. She’s concerned about what they might do to each other. At first, she was worried that Adam wouldn’t reciprocate Ronan’s feelings and his heart would be broken by it, but by now she’s aware that it’s a mutual thing. What is mutually good can easily turn into mutually bad, and that’s what Blue is trying to avoid here.

“I-,” Ronan doesn’t like speaking if he doesn’t have words to finish a sentence, but he gets choked up on a feeling, something that doesn’t happen often. He has to look away, towards the clean and sterilized walls of the hospital room, away from Blue’s face and definitely away from Declan’s. This is also an exercise of trust and Ronan is exposing himself too much to someone he claims to dislike. Blue knows better, though.

“No one tells Ronan Lynch what to do, I know,” Blue says, tapping a finger against his arm. “And I’m not about to try to do that. But be more careful with the things you love and cherish, Ronan.”

“That’s not a fair accusation,” he snaps, thinking about Matthew, his mother, Gansey. He’s careful with them. He protects them, he loves them.

“I know you take care of who you love and I know Adam likes you the way you are, even if I’m still trying to understand why that is,” Blue clarifies. “But start making some compromises sometimes. The way Adam does. You know how much it meant that Adam was being that open to you there.”

“I know,” Ronan tells her because he needs her to know. He needs someone to know that he cares. Blue is already aware, and all he’s giving her is a confirmation.

“So compromise,” Blue tilts her head, searching his gaze with hers and forcing him to lock eyes with her. “If you have nothing nice to say to Adam, then stay quiet. Let him talk. Let him try, Ronan, this is as unknown and complicated to him as it is to you.”

The pointed look she is giving him would drive Ronan insane any other day, but it only serves to make him comfortable, for him to believe that Blue is right.

They fall into the same silence as before, but Ronan isn’t fidgeting anymore. He’s not anxious about what the girl has to say next and yet there’s still a buzz under his skin. It’s a feeling and a thought he ought to file out for later, because he’s hardly going to get anything solved in the next few hours, unless they involve Declan’s situation. All he can do is shift his body away from Blue, let his eyes rest on his brother’s face again and take a deep breath.

“You’re being too fucking nosy about shit that doesn’t involve you, Maggot,” Ronan says finally and he doesn’t fail to catch the fact that she has a smile on her lips when she answers him.

“I know.”

-

Blue leaves twenty minutes later when the doctor finally appears for morning rounds. Ronan follows her out of the room because it means Declan is going to wake up and he genuinely doesn’t want to be one of the first things Declan sees in the morning. Nothing good could come from this, especially considering the circumstances. So he walks Blue to the front door where Gansey appears to pick her up and drop Matthew by in the process. His best friend throws Ronan a worried look but he brushes it off, dropping a hand to Matthew’s neck and asking his brother about his night.

The youngest Lynch is always a bundle of happiness and energy, and that hardly changes in this situation. There’s a glint of sadness in his eyes, but that doesn’t deter him. On the contrary, Matthew is chatty through breakfast, which they eat in the shit cafeteria in the hospital. The only thing Ronan hates more than hospitals is hospital food, and he can’t focus on Matthew’s ramblings enough to ignore the disgusting taste of it.

“And then  Noah told me you pushed him out of the window and when I looked really spooked he showed me what happens if he falls and Gansey’s face was very disapproving, you’d have loved it,” Matthew is saying and Ronan finally starts paying attention, looking away from the disgusting yogurt to his brother’s face.

“Noah did what?” Ronan asks, narrowing his eyes. “Have any of you fed Chainsaw at least?”

Ronan is not willing to bet, but he knows Chainsaw is the one he’s been missing the most the past day. Whatever happens, he’s going to have to drop by at Monmouth later to at least check on her and make sure she’s not dying from bad care.

“Of course!” Matthew sounds a little offended by the prospect. “Adam fed her.”

Ronan drops his spoon on the table.

“You waited for Parrish to drop by to feed my raven?”

Matthew is quiet at the question, turning his eyes to his food. Ronan groans, picking up his spoon and shaking his head.

“Fucking useless all of you.”

They go back to eating and Matthew is sheepish for the total of two minutes before he’s back to talking excitedly about his night at Ronan’s house. He tries to be disapproving of it, but there’s a fond smile threatening to break on Ronan’s lips.

When they get back to Declan’s room, the oldest Lynch is asleep again and the nurse tells them it’s because of the painkillers that are being pumped into his bloodstream. She warns Ronan and Matthew that Declan is going to be mostly asleep for the next couple of days, but that he’s recovering fast and well, that the idea is that he’s going to be allowed home in a week.

Matthew chatters Ronan’s ears off for the next few hours, talking about everything and nothing at all, and for that Ronan is grateful. He doesn’t think he’d be able to handle this amount of time in the hospital without Matthew’s overexcited cheerfulness, no matter how much he’s usually annoyed by it. Matthew is the lightning behind the gray clouds, has always been and is going to be for as long as Ronan is alive.

Hopefully for longer, Ronan thinks. But for that he’s going to need Adam’s help figuring out how to rid his mother and Matthew from this half-existence, them being alive depending on either Cabeswater or Ronan, in Matthew’s case.

Adam.

Ronan knows he won’t be able to ignore that for much longer, not if he’s interested in seeing the other boy anytime soon. Which he is, he’s always in need for Adam’s presence somewhere near him, as awful as this dependency makes Ronan feel. He inevitably ends up thinking about Blue and her advice, the suggestion that he might need to start making some compromises in order to make their relationship work. They are already fragile, delicate. It won’t help their predicament if Ronan can’t control his temper sometimes, if he can’t open a few exceptions to Adam when it comes to the way Ronan handles people.

The opportunity to slip away from the crushing weight being in the hospital brings him comes a couple of hours later when Declan finally wakes up. Matthew is immediately by his side, clutching Declan’s hand in his and asking him questions until the oldest brother finally lets out a I’m okay that sounds faint and weak to Ronan’s ears, but it’s enough to placate Matthew and bring a huge smile to the boy’s face. Declan replicates it and it brings a pang to Ronan’s heart that shouldn’t have appeared at all, especially because he’s in no right to be jealous of the way Declan treats Matthew, not when he’s also one to favor the younger boy as much as he can.

It still hurts and this sort of hurt is not one he should have to explain, to anyone or to himself. That’s what Blue would tell him probably. Or something.

“Ronan,” he drags his eyes from where Matthew’s hand is still holding Declan’s to his older brother’s face, the one who had called for him. There’s confusion in his eyes, sadness, but mostly Declan looks like he doesn’t know whether he wants Ronan around or not. “The nurse told me you stayed here last night and you haven’t gotten any sleep. You should go home.”

That gets a quirk of Ronan’s eyebrow, as well as a snort to slip from his lips. He crosses his arms in front of his chest, adopting a protective and slightly aggressive stance.

“Are you kicking me out?” He asks, tilting his head up slightly, enough so he’s staring down at Declan.

“Just saying you don’t have to be somewhere you don’t want to be anymore,” Declan says and promptly makes Ronan see red.

There’s the fact that Declan is suggesting that Ronan might do something he doesn’t care for doing, which is definitely not true most of the time. There’s also the fact that, if Ronan denies that, he’s going to be exposing, putting out into the open that he cares to be here more than others would assume, more than Declan would assume. He doesn’t want him to know he’s wrong, but the relief that started cursing through his veins when Declan’s eyes had slipped open had yet to disappear.

“You get into a car crash and you still can’t stand the very sight of me,” it’s what Ronan comes up with. Throwing it back on Declan’s face, something he’s already great at doing. “Here I was hoping you’d have smashed a part of your brain that made you this unbearable and you’d finally become a human being I could hold a conversation with. What a pity.”

“Ronan,” the warning comes from Matthew, not Declan, but Ronan is already too heated up, too annoyed by Declan’s words to hold it back.

“I’m actually really fucking happy that you didn’t die in the crash, you know why?” His fists are clenched tight and he knows there’s no turning back now. “Because if you’re going to die, I gotta be the one to do it.”

“Ronan!” Matthew calls after him but Ronan is too heated to stay around any longer so he spins on his heels and walks out, doesn’t stop until he’s sat in his car and slamming the door closed.

He drives away.

-

Ronan ends up in St. Agnes.

It’s predictable and the moment he pulled the keys from his pocket he knew he’d end up here eventually. He had to drive around for a while, drive as far as the Barns and back, before his mood was somewhat stable enough for him to settle on a place to go. Ronan should’ve gone to Monmouth, technically and logically, but with the exhaustion settling on his body, there’s nowhere else he’d rather be than at the church.

It still surprises him slightly when he takes the stairs to Adam’s room instead of falling into one of the benches, but he goes where his feet are taking him. It’s too early for Adam to be around and Ronan knows it will be way after dawn before the boy makes his way back.

He doesn’t care. He sits by the door and rests against it, stretching his legs in front of him. His eyes slip shut on their own accord and Ronan is out before he can count to twenty.

Ronan wakes up to a foot kicking his repeatedly. He doesn’t startle, he awakes slowly and perhaps that’s because his subconscious knows who’s waking him up, who is standing in front of him. It takes him a couple of minutes before he can effectively rub the sleep out of his eyes and stretch the soreness on his neck away. It’s only then that he looks up, his eyes falling on Adam’s face. It’s impassive; a block of ice, hiding any and all emotion from it and that makes Ronan angry. He knows how to handle anger more than he knows how to handle impassiveness. Or sadness.

“What are you doing here?” Adam asks and Ronan notices the bags under his eyes, notices how fucking exhausted Adam looks. More so than usual and it’s not difficult for him to catch on to the fact that he wasn’t the only one to not have a decent night of sleep.

“What is it with people and their reminders that I don’t belong fucking anywhere?” He asks instead of answering Adam’s question, bracing a hand against the door so he can stand up and get out of Adam’s way.

“What is it with you and not wanting to belong anywhere?” Adam spits back and there’s a and to anyone in the air which he refuses to let out but that Ronan notices anyway.

“Snakes are better off alone,” Adam is holding his gaze and Ronan refuses to be the first to bend. He refuses to do a lot of things clearly.

There’s no answer for a moment, before Adam is sighing and looking away, walking towards the door and unlocking it.

“Otherwise they poison you,” Adam says before he’s crossing the frame and leaving the door open behind him for Ronan to follow him if he so wishes.

Ronan does, of course, and closes it behind him, using Adam’s keys to lock it. He tosses them on the desk and turns the chair around, sitting with his front to the back of it. Adam ignores him completely as he goes through his usual nightly routine – setting his bag down and changing out of his clothes, going to the bathroom and locking himself inside. Ronan listens to the water running and groans, resting his forehead against his arms and urging his mind to ignore the fact that he’d much rather be on the other side of that door.

It’s long before Adam walks out, longer than the usual, but Ronan understands why. He looks up when the bathroom door opens and bites on his lower lip to ignore the comment he wants to throw at the sight of a naked Adam with only a towel draped around his hips covering him. Ronan knows he should curse the fact that they’ve reached this level of comfortable and intimacy between each other for that. On a normal day, he wouldn’t bat an eye at the sight. Or he would and he would tug Adam to him by the towel and let it drop while sucking him down to the root.

As it is, he’s not allowed to do more than look and keep his comments to himself. He diverts his eyes when Adam lets the towel fall, if only because Ronan knows it’s going to be impossible to keep quiet if he sees Adam completely naked and only allows his eyes to drift back once he’s sure Adam’s dressed once more. It’s a mistake because the look in Adam’s eyes tells Ronan that he’s slightly hurt about this situation as well. Ronan thinks about what Blue had said to him and wonders if that had come out of the girl’s mind completely or if she had consulted with Adam first.

“Blue thinks I’m being too selfish,” it surprises Adam that Ronan starts speaking and Ronan notices it, but he waves it off. “That I’m not being willing to compromise shit.”

“Is that news to anyone?” Adam asks and Ronan narrows his eyes at him.

“If you wanted someone that bends whenever you tell them to, you should be dating Gansey and not me,” Ronan ignores the fact that it’s the first time either of them has explicitly put out there that what they are is more than just something in favor of looking stern.

“That’s not-“ Adam groans in frustration, bringing a hand to his face and rubbing his temple. “That’s not what this is about, Ronan. I don’t need you to bend and to act different than the way you do. I just need- You see me trying to be as comprehensive as I can about the way you deal with things and I need you to give me that as well. It’s not compromising as much as it is accepting. And if I’m showing you support, the least you could do is not act like I’m personally offending you when I want you to know you’re not alone.

“I was trying to say you could trust me and to have you throw that back on my face?” Adam’s face is far from detached but he’s much more controlled than Ronan assumes he would be in that situation. As it is, he knows better than to interrupt him. “Yeah, Ronan, it fucking hurt, okay? It wouldn’t kill you to think before you speak sometimes.”

“You’re acting like I reserve this sort of treatment to you only when you know that’s not true,” Ronan says, jaw clenched.

“That’s the problem, Ronan!” Adam’s hands fall to his side and the frustration is written all over his body. Tensed shoulders, brow furrowed, everything about Adam is screaming how much he’s feeling at the moment. “Excuse me for being optimistic about it, but I was hoping that I’d receive the slightest bit of a better treatment from you now that we-“

The hesitation is what makes Ronan stand up and push the chair to the side, so he can invade Adam’s space, standing a few inches away from the other boy.

“Now that we what, Parrish?” Ronan asks, biting. “Now that we’re fucking? Now that we’re together? Now that we’re a couple? Now that you know that the things I’ve done to you happened because you’re more than just a silly crush to me? You’re asking for me to give you a better treatment now while you’re ignoring everything you get to see that other people don’t. Or do you think I let anybody touch me the way you do? That I let everybody get away with the comments you get away with? Do you think I tell people the things I tell you? That I let them see me in the morning the way you do?

“You already get so much from me, Adam,” it’s the fastest his anger has slipped away. It’s gone in the blink of an eye and Ronan’s shoulders sag before he can help it. “I don’t know what else you expect me to give to you.”

The admission is heavy and makes the air uncomfortable, but neither of them are willing to break the silence for a while. He sees the way that Adam’s eyes run fast through Ronan’s face while he tries to digest everything Ronan’s just said. For once in his life, Ronan is not in the mood for fighting. For once, there’s nothing that resembles anger or rage inside of him, threatening to explode and let out words that are meant to poke and probe. For once, Ronan is exhausted and all he wants to do is close his eyes and pretend the past day hasn’t happened. He wants to go back to the Latin class, to when his only problem was the possibility of getting caught staring at the back of Adam’s neck with fond eyes.

Once again he doesn’t startle when Adam touches him, but that’s mostly because it’s too soft for him to react with anything other than a deep breath. Adam takes Ronan face in his hands and pulls him closer, resting their foreheads together. Their breathing slowly synchronizes and Ronan takes that as a grounding force, as something keeping him steady when his body is close to the shutting down point. When Adam draws back, Ronan almost cries for him to come back.

“I need you to trust me to look after you,” Adam says, softly. “You’ve been looking after me for a long time, so let me give that to you back. You’ve been my spine for a long time, let me be your guiding hand.”

Ronan gulps, nods. He knows this is a moment when he’s giving away a part of himself to Adam – another part of himself, but there’s no fighting this anymore. Not if he wants the two of them to work and there’s little Ronan cares for besides that. He could count on one hand the amount of people in the world he’d lose sleep over, and with one finger only the amount of people he’d willingly trusted to take care of him before. It’s probably past time he adds someone else to that second list.

There’s nothing else he can do after that other than kiss Adam. Ronan moves a hand to the back of Adam’s neck so he can pull his closer, fitting their lips together. Adam’s palms are cold against his cheeks but he drags them lower, so they can rest on Ronan’s shoulders. It’s a short kiss, shorter than they are used to, but neither of them have the strength to keep going, to do much other than give each other this small piece of solid comfort.

Ronan kicks his shoes off when Adam pulls back and makes to his bed. He puts them aside and pulls his shirt off. He hesitates before getting rid of his jeans, but the sight of Adam in an old t-shirt and sweatpants is enough for Ronan to want to be comfortable, so he kicks those aside as well, standing in the cold of Adam’s room in only his black boxers.

“The offer still stands for me to dream you a heater,” Ronan says, climbing into bed after Adam. He gets a pinch to his side for that, and he chuckles. “You won’t always have me to keep you warm and this blanket is just tragic, Parrish.”

Adam is definitely rolling his eyes at him, but Ronan doesn’t bother checking before he’s turning around, Adam’s chest glued to his back. A hand comes to rest on his chest, next to his heart, and Ronan sinks into it, tangling their legs together.

“Ronan?” Adam asks, lips brushing against the back of Ronan’s neck.

“Hm?”

“Shut up and go to sleep.”

He falls asleep smiling.

-

Adam goes with Ronan, a week later, when they have to pick Declan up from the hospital. He’s supposed to go home, but there’s no chance he’s going back to his dorm for a while. The Barns it is, Ronan knows there’s nowhere else he could take Declan to, nowhere else the older man would tolerate being at.

“He can’t be left alone for alone for long periods of time for the next week or so and his bandage must be changed at least twice a day,” the doctor instructs, looking from Ronan to Matthew to Adam, not knowing which of them are going to take responsibility for the boy changing out of hospital clothes. “I would still prefer if there was some adult that could-

“There’s no one,” Ronan cuts her off, arms folder over his chest. Adam’s elbow is sharp against his ribs and Ronan knows it’s a telling for him to play nicer. He ignores it. “Declan is not a minor, so this shouldn’t be a problem at all.”

“Young man,” Ronan fights against the urge to roll his eyes at the woman’s choice of term. “As much as your brother’s done a great recovery at the hospital, it’s going to take a few more weeks until he’s completely healed, and we’re just hopeful that he’s going to have the best treatment at home so he can get out of this bright as new.”

Ronan opens his mouth to reply to her, but Adam cuts him off.

“We’ll look after him, don’t worry.”

He turns his head to the side a bit so Adam can see the glare he’s giving him, but the other boy shows no reaction to it. If anything, the quirk in his eyebrow is telling Ronan to behave and to keep his thoughts to himself at least until they are out of the hospital. In the car he can rant, when they are at the Barns, he can complain. But not here, not when he’s about to drive his brother out of the worst situation he’s been in.

The doctor doesn’t seem convinced, but she goes on with the list of things they are supposed to do without showing her concerns again.

Declan is quiet. He doesn’t say anything when he goes back to the bedroom after changing in the bathroom and he doesn’t say anything while Adam pushes the wheelchair to take him out of the hospital. Matthew gets him to crack a smile as they reach Ronan’s car, but he doesn’t even open his mouth to say anything as he climbs into the backseat. A glance at him tells Ronan that Declan is nervous and it makes sense, of course, that it’s difficult for him to be seated in a car again.

He could poke at it, rub salt on the wound and make sure that Declan either explodes or sinks further into the quietness. Ronan chooses to start the car instead as Adam climbs into the passenger seat.

Thirty minutes into the car journey, Adam reaches for the radio. Ronan groans, an unspoken warning for him to not do that and Adam doesn’t question him before drawing back. His hand falls in the space between their seats and a big part of Ronan tells him to ignore it. Adam is already looking out the window, so it’s not like he’s expecting anything. It’s a silent offer for a steadying touch and Ronan is allowed to take it or not.

He does, eventually. A few minutes later when Adam’s hand is not tucked back into his lap yet. He lets his right hand fall from the steering wheel and flips Adam’s around, tangling their fingers. Immediately, Adam gives him a reassuring squeeze, and the subtle tension that had settled on Ronan’s shoulders is gone in a blink.

“Adam?” It’s Matthew, his voice soft and low coming from the backseat. Ronan looks at him through the rearview mirror, but Adam shifts a bit on his seat, so he can face the younger boy.

“Yes?” He asks, giving Matthew his attention, but there’s a thumb rubbing against the back of Ronan’s hand.

“Are you and Ronan dating?”

Ronan freezes. He doesn’t drop Adam’s hand but he freezes, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. He only notices the grip on Adam is tighter than it was when Adam hisses. Ronan forces himself to let it go slowly, going back to the loose way their hangs were threaded. He didn’t expect Matthew to question it, not right now. He expected, if the younger boy was attentive enough to notice, that he’d be asked about it later on, when Declan isn’t around. But not only does Matthew throw it in the open, he also directs it to Adam instead of Ronan, as if he doesn’t expect Ronan to be honest.

He looks for Declan’s expression with the mirror, but his older brother looks impassive. His eyes are resting on Ronan’s and Adam’s hands, but he doesn’t comment on it or have anything on his face that tells whether he disapproves completely or isn’t bothered by it. Ronan doesn’t know why, but he’d expected something from Declan. He doesn’t need his brother’s approval; he doesn’t need shit from him. But the lack of a reaction is somewhat concerning.

Adam’s eyes are digging a hole into Ronan’s cheek, but he refuses to turn his head, to look away from the road. It’s a good enough excuse that he’s driving, but if Adam expects Ronan to answer that question for him, he should be well aware he’s not getting it.

“Yes, we are,” Adam says eventually, and it’s only then that Ronan stops feeling the weight of Adam’s gaze on his face. He breathes finally, pretends that he’s not paying attention, but he’s completely focused on what’s going to be Matthew’s answer to that.

“Oh,” Matthew’s reaction is a mystery for the total of one second, until Ronan can hear the smile on his words. “Cool!” That Ronan should’ve expected, considering how happy Matthew can be about the smallest of things. “Isn’t it cool, Declan?”

Ronan’s breath hitches again, but Declan’s response is a tiny grunting sound, an assent of sorts. He tells himself not to be bothered by it, not to look into it, but Ronan can’t help it that he stores that reaction for a moment later when he can confront Declan about it. Adam won’t be approving of that, but Ronan isn’t planning on clueing him in on every little thing he does anyway.

It’s a proof of that when he pulls into the Barns’ driveway, parking the BMW in the garage and unlocking the doors. He lets go of Adam’s hand, but speaks up before everybody can walk out.

“Adam, take Matthew inside,” his tone makes it clear it’s neither a suggestion nor a request. It’s borderline an order and the only reason Adam follows it without questioning it or telling him to fuck off is because he sees something in Ronan’s face before he’s nodding and climbing out of the car. The sigh Declan lets out is the loudest he’s been the entire day and it’s almost enough to make Ronan want to punch the living shit out of him.

He gets out of the car, slamming his door closed and leaning against it. Ronan knows better than to make his hands available, so he crosses them as per usual, making sure they are well tucked under his armpits. Declan takes a bit longer to get out and Ronan doesn’t miss him wincing, the indication that he stood up fast enough to get a bit dizzy. It’s not enough for Ronan to pity him and he needs to get this out of him before he bottles it up inside for too long, to the point where his reaction is going to go way further than just annoyed remarks.

Ronan is not heartless and he doesn’t want anybody to think he is, so he doesn’t say anything for a bit. He resigns himself to watching as Declan leans against the car as well, taking him clear effort to remain standing. Ronan waits until his brother opens his mouth to complain before he lets out the words he had swallowed.

“Do you have a problem with it?” Ronan asks, tilting his head back so he’s staring down at Declan. His brother is speechless at the question, confusion written over his face. “With me? With Adam?”

Declan understands what Ronan is asking then, and Ronan sees how it takes everything for him not to snap at Ronan for keeping him back over something that is insignificant. Ronan doesn’t understand why it bothered him enough for him to speak up either, so there’s less judgement in him than he usually would have to spare.

“I don’t think my opinion matters to you,” Declan points out and Ronan snorts.

“That’s not the problem here,” Ronan says instead of telling Declan that it doesn’t because Ronan doesn’t lie, even in moments when he wished, a little bit, that he did. “I just don’t want you talking shit to Matthew about how I’m going to Hell for this.”

Can it be considered a lie when it’s a partial truth?

“Oh fuck off,” this time it’s Declan that rolls his eyes – or tries to. Ronan assumes it takes too much energy for him to do something like that, but he’s still looking at Ronan like he doesn’t believe a single word that comes out of Ronan’s mouth. “As if Matthew would let something I say convince him that someone is anything other than a great person. Don’t worry, your brother’s opinion about you is not going to be tarnished by anything I have or not to say.”

Declan says the last part already walking away and this Ronan doesn’t bother calling after him. He chews on his lower lip, staring into his brother’s retreating back until it’s gone and Ronan is completely alone. It’s only then that he turns and silently kicks the closest wheel twice, letting out a grunt.

He finds Adam in the kitchen afterwards, silently putting together something for them to eat. Ronan had walked past Matthew and Declan in the living room on the way, but he hadn’t stopped when Matthew had called after him. He heard Declan’s reassurance that Ronan was okay and fought against the urge to yell at his face that he was wrong, wrong, wrong, like he always was.

The boy doesn’t seem surprised when Ronan leans against the counter next to him. In fact, he doesn’t show any reaction to it, only continues what he was already doing, most likely waiting for Ronan to say something.

It’s a long time before he does. Adam’s done on the counter and has already moved to the stove by the time Ronan even switches his weight from one foot to the other. His eyes remain glued on the boy for the entire time he spends cooking, though, because nothing else in the room attracts his attention as much as Adam does. Ronan doesn’t have to look another way when Adam’s gaze finds him every once in a while, because Adam knows he’s staring and doesn’t seem to mind. He only raises a quiet eyebrow, questioning, but Ronan stays quiet and Adam goes back to his job.

Plates are shoved into his arms in a silent request for Ronan to set up the table, and he does it without complaining. There are two extra plates and that’s enough indication for Ronan that Gansey is dropping by with Blue. On a normal day, he’d be annoyed at this amount of people invading his father’s house. Today, he’s partially thankful that his friends thought to be here.

After everything is set and Adam has turned off the stove so the food can cool a bit, Ronan takes Adam’s hands in his and pulls him closer. He needs this moment before Gansey and Blue arrive, needs this opportunity to rest his forehead against Adam’s again and allow his breathing to fall into a proper rhythm once more.

“Your hands are soft,” Ronan whispers before he can think better of it. Adam doesn’t laugh at him for it. Adam always takes him seriously and for that Ronan can only be grateful.

“Someone keeps dreaming me pots and pots of hand lotion and I barely have anywhere to stock them,” Adam’s playful and not judgmental so Ronan smiles.

“Sounds like a catch,” he jokes. “Keep him away from Gansey, before he has a change of hearts.”

Adam is laughing when he lets go of one of Ronan’s hands and moves it to the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss, but it’s a delighted laugh. Ronan swallows it and it’s contagious, because soon they are fighting to keep kissing through the smiles that paint their faces.

They are forced to separate by the doorbell ringing, but even then it’s hesitant. It’s lingering kisses until Gansey’s voice echoes through the house and Ronan has to draw back because he still needs some extra time to pull himself together and let the usual scowl take over his features. By the time Blue appears on the kitchen and says hi to Adam, Ronan is back to leaning against the counter, looking at the girl with a menacing expression.

“Ronan,” she greets with no actual smile on her face, but her expression isn’t hard either.

“Maggot,” Ronan acknowledges her with a nod. “Has Gansey talked your ears off already?”

“Oh, he’s definitely trying,” Blue walks towards Ronan, standing next to him. “But I cut him off whenever he becomes insufferable.”

“Not with your mouth, I hope.”

It’s an off-handed comment and he doesn’t expect the way both Blue and Adam freeze at that. They get over it quickly, but Ronan doesn’t miss the fact they tensed up as soon as those words were out of his mouth. Before he can question either of them about it, the man at question walks into the room.

“Ronan!” Ganseys covers the distance between them with three large steps, enveloping Ronan in a hug that he groans into. “I’ve missed you so!”

“Get the fuck off me,” Ronan pushes him away, but holds Gansey by his forearms at a considerably short distance. “You saw me this morning.”

“It’s still too long.”

“Blue, get your boyfriend the fuck away from me before I punch him and his soppy face,” Ronan warns and even if she groans at his choice of words, the girl complies, putting a hand on Gansey’s chest and pushing him away. Gansey pretends to hesitate but he goes willingly, making his way to the dining table.

“Well, I’m starving, thank God for Adam.”

Dinner is only a good affair because of Gansey, Matthew and Blue’s attempts at making the most amount of light conversation as possible. Ronan ignores them the majority of the time, only replying when there’s a question directed towards him and falling into quiet as soon as the answer is out. He doesn’t let Adam do the dishes afterwards, offers to drive him home but Gansey tells him he can do it and that Ronan should honestly get some sleep.

He pulls Adam to the side before they leave.

“Here,” Ronan passes him his mobile and Adam doesn’t protest but there’s a question in his eyes. “Call Declan’s if you need anything or-“ Ronan shrugs, pushing his fists into his pockets. “Just take it.”

Adam nods. They don’t kiss before he leaves, but the memory of Adam’s lips pressed against his is still strong when Ronan’s head hits the pillow.

-

It’s mandatory that Declan won’t be left alone, so every morning, for the rest of the week, Ronan drives Matthew to Aglionby and then goes back home. Declan doesn’t do much or say anything at all. He sits in the living room, in front of the TV, with a blanket on his lap and a glass of water on the armrest, and stays there for the rest of the day. He only gets up to go to the bathroom, only looks away from the television when he gets a texts from who Ronan assumes is the girlfriend that was in the car with him, the one that has yet to visit Declan and make sure he’s okay.

Ronan doesn’t say anything about it because he doesn’t care. He knows they are easily replaceable, the girls Declan dates, and he doubts it’s going to hurt his older brother all that much when he finally decides he’s over it. In fact, Ronan barely stays around, even though he knows he probably should.

Instead, he dreams. For years Ronan fought against falling asleep, scared of what might happen if he does, scared that he might bring the wrong things out. While he still doesn’t trust for things to go completely smoothly, he’s not afraid of this anymore. He’s not afraid of what he can do now that he has almost full control of it. It helps that Ronan is, dare he say, happy, most of the time. When he avoids thinking about Declan and this entire situation, he’s as happy as he’s been in a long time.

Most of the time, he brings stuff from his dreams that might help him with the animals still asleep, with his mother stuck in Cabeswater since she can’t go out. Ronan gets increasingly more frustrated as the days pass and he doesn’t advance further than he already had. It doesn’t help that Adam is not around to help him out with suggestions or moral support, and Ronan is not yet desperate enough to take Declan’s phone and call him. It’s a cycle of dreaming things up, testing them to see if they work, getting mad when they don’t and tossing them to a corner of his room that keeps piling up with what he deems useless dream shit.

Sometimes, though, he brings gifts. For Gansey, a polo shirt, a miniature BMW, copy of Ronan’s, he can put in his Henrietta model. He goes as far as dreaming him a gansey, though Ronan doesn’t know when he’s going to be able to wear the knitted sweater. For Noah, snow globes of varying sizes, of different places in Henrietta. Monmouth, 300 Fox Way, Aglionby. He puts them delicately on top of his desk, careful not to drop them and let them break. For Blue, Ronan brings a couple of fabrics. He doesn’t know the name, so he brings whatever reminds him of things she’s worn in the past, but they are different. The colors change with the lights, one resembling the night sky with as many constellations as Ronan can think of.

He doesn’t know what to dream for Adam. It’s not like the boy is going to be willing to take anything from him, as stupid as that might be, so the heater is definitely not an option. It frustrates him to no end because Ronan doesn’t want Adam to think that the things he’d given him before were only a courting attempt and that he doesn’t plan on giving him more now that they are together, but he doesn’t know what. It’s when he starts chewing on the leather bands on his arms that he has an idea.

Ronan should’ve known the calm would be breached eventually, because the Lynch household hasn’t known peace in years.

It happens after dinner one day, when Matthew offers to do the dishes and Ronan and Declan are in the living room. They are sat on opposite ends of the couch, both quiet as they pretend to watch what is on the TV, but neither of them are paying much attention to it and Ronan knows it because of the tension in Declan’s shoulders. What he had gathered from the show that is on, it was a reality show of sorts. He doubts it’s anything that’d get Declan to look like he’d rather be anywhere but here.

“What are you still doing here?” Declan asks eventually, turning his head and looking at Ronan. His eyes are narrowed, the curiosity he had thrown at Ronan at first has been replaced by sheer anger, and Ronan doesn’t think it’s warranted at all. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to accomplish here, Ronan. If it’s to piss me off by your constant presence, then you’re doing an excellent job.”

“Fuck you,” Ronan jumps to his feet at Declan’s accusation. The anger that had been boiling inside of him for the past few days is finally out of its leash and he doesn’t fight it back. “Why do you have to be such an asshole all the fucking time?”

“Because you’ve made explicitly clear to me that you’d kill me yourself!” Declan doesn’t stand up and Ronan is willing to be it’s because he knows he’s going to get dizzy if he does so, and he doesn’t want to lose a hand on the discussion. “And because you hate me, everybody knows you fucking hate me so any type of concern you might try to show is going to be contrived and I don’t want that.”

“All you do is blame me and yell at me and try to act like my father but you’re not my fucking father, Declan,” Ronan’s voice has raised considerably and he knows Matthew is standing by the doorframe when he stops listening to the water running. “You keep treating me like a child and telling me to do shit then you sit on your fucking high horse pretending that you’re somehow above all of us, pretending you’re some sort of hot shit and you expect me to just fucking take it. And no, I’m not going to fucking take it. But you’re my brother. I like it or not, you’re my brother and I didn’t want your brain to have exploded in that car crashed and covered the asphalt.”

“You’re angry all the time, Ronan,” Declan tells him as if Ronan isn’t well aware of that. “It’s not like I can carry a proper conversation with you without getting my head bit off.”

“Don’t play the fucking victim here,” Ronan steps closer, points a finger to his brother’s face. Vaguely he listens to the way Matthew’s breath hitches, as if he was expecting Ronan to punch Declan. He wants to, but he won’t. Not when the oldest Lynch is still like this. “You have a problem with me and you’ve always had a problem with me. What is it? Is it jealousy? Because of dad’s attention? Because of what I can do and you can’t?” That pokes at the wound and a flash in Declan’s eyes tells Ronan of that, so he keeps pressing. “Do you blame me for dad’s death?” His voice shakes. “Did you want me to have been killed instead of him?”

“Ronan,” it’s Matthew’s voice, weak and thin, not loud enough to get Ronan to stop.

“Is it because mom also paid more attention to me than she did to you?” His eyes scan Declan’s face, his jaw locked in a menacing way. Ronan wants his brother to be scared, he needs him to be scared. “Oh, and so does Matthew, doesn’t he? He’s much more attached to me than he is to you, are you jealous of that as well? Of the fact that I got everything you should’ve gotten when you’re the oldest brother, when you deserved it better? Do you compensate those frustrations by fucking any leggy model that walks five feet from y-

Ronan doesn’t finish his sentence because a fist knocks against his face and sends him to his knees. Declan is heaving, trying to get his breath back, most likely to punch Ronan again, but Ronan is faster. He stands up, but before he can give his brother a matching bruise, Matthew is stepping between the two of them, putting a hand on Ronan’s chest and taking Ronan’s wrist with his other, effectively stopping him.

“Ronan, no,” the boy pleads, looking up at him with his bright blue eyes. “Please.”

His shoulders sag. He can’t fight Matthew and he doesn’t want to. His younger brother doesn’t deserve any of this. Ronan doesn’t look away from Matthew’s face, doesn’t give Declan any indication that he recognizes the fact that his older brother is now sitting on the couch again, head hanging low. Ronan lets his hands fall and turns around, straight towards the front door.

The BMW is parked nearby, but Ronan stops before going in, tossing his head back and letting out a shout. He screams until his throat is hoarse and he can’t stand straight anymore. He screams until the frustration is gone, but it’s only replaced by a desperate need to be everywhere but here. So he gets in the car and slams the door shut behind him. His jaw is sore where Declan had punched him, but Ronan ignores it in favor of pulling away and driving off.

It’s not a surprise when he ends up at St. Agnes again. Ronan should’ve seen it coming – he did, at parts – the minute he had driven away from the Barns that, no matter how long he drove around Henrietta, he was bound to end up in the footsteps of the church with no intention of sitting on the pews. He lets his feet drag him up the stairs, his knuckles to beat against the door of Adam’s place before he’s shoving his hands inside his pockets. For a moment he’s scared Adam hasn’t arrived home yet, but it’s a fleeting thought since the door is being unlocked and opened a beat later.

“Ronan?” Adam’s surprised to see him standing there and it’s probably because Ronan shouldn’t. He should be home with his brothers, trying to fix the mess that is his relationship with Declan before it’s too late. But what if it’s already too late?

He walks past Adam, ignoring the question in the air. When Adam closes the door behind him, Ronan pushes him against it, a hand on his shoulder and the other gripping Adam’s chin. Ronan is not aggressive about it – the pressure is loose enough that Adam wouldn’t have to put in too much effort to get Ronan to back off and the hand on Adam’s chin is only holding his head up so their eyes are locked.

Still, there’s a flash of fear in Adam’s eyes.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Ronan whispers, stepping closer, their lips mere inches away from each other. “I’m never going to hurt you.”

Ronan doesn’t lie. Adam knows that but it’s a minute before Adam relaxes and nods, hand going to the back of Ronan’s neck and Ronan moves even closer. Their lips don’t crash – they meet. For someone who’s moved on violence and harshness, Ronan’s prevented from being anything other than delicate when it comes to this boy.

Adam wraps arms around his neck and Ronan’s hands slide down his sides, clutching tight onto the skin, looking for something other than the teeth biting down on his lower lip to ground him. It doesn’t get heated when Ronan’s hand sneaks into Adam’s sweats and the pace doesn’t change when Adam brings his own down to unzip Ronan’s jeans. When it gets overwhelming, they break the kiss but keep close, Adam’s breath hitting Ronan’s lips. He swallows down a moan when Adam flicks his wrist right, but the other boy isn’t as quick to do so when Ronan leans closer and kiss his jaw, tightening his grip around Adam at the same time.

When it’s over, they rest against each other, Ronan’s face buried on the crook of Adam’s neck as he tries to regain his breathing. He feels disgusting, but for the first time in days it has more to do with the mess that’s covering his hand than the feeling crawling inside, the one that chokes him and clenches at his heart. For the first time in days, Ronan wants to be pulled closer instead of being pushed away.

They take a shower together in silence, lying next to each other in Adam’s bed afterwards. It’s a tight fit, but with their legs tangled and Adam’s arms around Ronan’s shoulders, they make it work.

“I was obsessed with Declan when we were younger,” Ronan starts and Adam hums, a silent invitation for him to continue. “He was my older brother, I mean. It was fucking impossible for me to not want to be a bit like him. He was really good at most things too. Video games, sports, school, taking care of the animals. For a while, it didn’t really matter to me that I had most of dad’s attention because all I cared about was Declan’s. He never cared to give me it though because for him I was just his younger brother that was truly a little shit.

“But it changed eventually, probably because he found out Matthew was a dream thing and because he found out about me and he became colder since he found that dad was being unfair,” Ronan’s nervous, admitting all these things. He wishes he was wearing his leather bands, his need to chew on them appearing suddenly. Instead, he leans forward in Adam’s hold, pressing his lips against the boy’s bare shoulder for a moment before drawing back. “I realized I was never going to be Declan’s favorite and I was okay with that. I never expected us to hate each other this much.”

“People change,” Adam says, lips brushing against Ronan’s forehead as he speaks. “But you two have time. Maybe you’re going to be able to somewhat fix it one day, if you’re looking for that.”

Ronan doesn’t say anything because he doesn’t want to lie and say that it’s going to happen. He closes his eyes instead.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this was okay? Feedback is always welcome! Find me on tumblr at http://andrcwmlnyard.tumblr.com/


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